Reporter
by cutiej
Summary: Tracer starts a blog to document the daily lives and backgrounds of all of our favorite heroes! [Rated M literally just for language. Tracer-centric fic.]


The camera would shake and wobble as the brunette turns it on and holds it on, and a smiling face is brought into view after the device is raised. Tracer grins, and then winks at the blinking red light.

"'Ello, loves! Tracer, here! Starting today, I'm putting in place a brand-new broadcast series called _Watching Overwatch!_ __For all you die-hard hero supporters, I'm gonna be showin' off the daily lives of all of us heroes here! It's going to feature me, Tracer, as your guide and reporter, as we explore the lives of all of my teammates here at HQ."

The glowing enthusiasm goes off-camera as she turns it to face the other way, directing it to face a dimly-lit, tiled hallway. Tracer would blink once(resulting in a quick blue flash across the footage) and stop at a door that was slightly ajar. She pushes it open and blinks once again so she's standing in the center of the room, moving the camera to scan the walls and their belongings. In the background is the sound of running water, and for a small second the camera stills on a door with a light on from underneath. Steam slowly pours from the crack. The viewpoint shifts again, continuing to examine the room.

"Alright, dearies! We're looking at a very special person's private quarters! You all know him as Soldier:76, but I know 'im as my dear good friend Jackie! I've never been in here before- no-one has! It's a real learning experience, but tha's what this is about, isn't it~?"

The pilot would examine a small display case showing off a few trophies and medals, and then lightly drag her hand across a dated Overwatch poster. Behind the camera, Tracer's expression would shift into a frown, and she gets lost in thought before remembering that there's a job to be done and dammit, she has fans waiting on the cavalry to deliver.

"Oh, dear- Sorry, boys! I got a little lost there for a second. Let's take a look at this, shall we? It seems to be a shrine dedicated to the good 'ol days! I never took dear old Jackie to be a sap, but here we are! Other than that, there's nothing interesting that seems to be lying in plain sight. Why don't we go get a word from the man himself, huh?"

A devious grin spreads across the brunette's face as she crosses to the bathroom door, opening it quietly. Inside, a certain soldier stood naked in front of a mirror save for a towel draped around his waist. He was shaving, and for a second, he doesn't really acknowledge the fact that Lena had even intruded. The blogger would sneakily take out her phone and turn on the camera, keeping it ready. When Morrison speaks from his position, it's rough and irritable. "What do you want, Tracer?

The woman, of course, is ridiculously cheerful. "Smile, love! You're on camera! Got anything to say to our viewers about what you're really like underneath the rocky exterior you show us every day?"

From the view of the mirror, the lens can see the razor stop moving, and usually-hidden eyes go wide with surprise and realization. "Camera-?! Lena, turn that fucking thing off, _**now-!**_ "

In his hurry and distress, the hero turns too quick and unpins his towel from being held up by the edge of the bathroom sink. It falls quickly, and Tracer quickly brings up her phone and snaps a photo before blinking back into the main bedroom.

"Wowzer, Soldier! I never thought you'd be so quick to bear it all-!" A gunshot nearly hits her before she blinks towards the doorway, a gleeful smirk on her face. Jack was at the bathroom door with one hand loosely keeping up the towel, a look of pure rage dominating his face.

"Dammit, Tracer! Delete that photo- That's an order!"

"Sorry, Jackie, no-can-do! Gotta run!"

" _ **I've got you in my sights-!"**_

Another gunshot, and tracer leaps into a back tuck before blinking down the hall in a blue flash, her laughter ringing through the metallic walls. She runs afterwards, turning the camera to face her again.

"Alright, boys! I think it's time to call it a wrap! See you later, loves!"

 _Click._

Later on, in her room, Tracer would fall into a chair and spin twice while rolling towards her desk, getting to work on the newly-uploaded content. She opens the image file and laughs, throwing her head back. On screen? Jack Morrison, one hand reaching for the camera, another trying to hold up a towel that had fallen _just_ low enough to show off a chiselled v-line, and a hint of something more unmentionable. Definitely a quality photo. She pulls up her website with a wicked grin and inserts the image, positioning it in the right location before leaning back and cracking her knuckles in preparation for the newest post.

' _Cheerio, loves! We've got some juicy content today with our very own Soldier: 76, who I went and attempted to interview...'_


End file.
